


house of horrors

by beenomorph



Category: Transformers: Rescue Bots
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 19:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11320191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beenomorph/pseuds/beenomorph
Summary: A haunted house is attended, mistakes are made, and things inexplicably change.





	house of horrors

**Author's Note:**

> cross posted from a like, three year old tumblr post, figured it should be up here, too.

It had been hours since he and Dani had left, gone off to  some sort of fundraiser event, a little halloween-themed fall-festival-slash-technology exposition, as was all too common in their town, and he was enjoying himself. They had, after all, gotten free admission- as did all of the other first responders and emergency technicians (Save for, of course, the local firefighters, whose chief had drawn the short straw and gotten them all stuck doing on site volunteer work), but that wasn’t the point. The point was, of course, that he got a calm, rescue-less day to wander around the place with his best friend.

It was, at the time, starting to get late- the sun was visible only by the small stripe of rapidly fading orange highlighting the horizon. The lights, rigged up through some expensive and most-likely experimental system, powered on not too long ago, illuminating various attractions and booths and food cars with bright oranges and yellows, and he was sipping idly from a comically large drink he’d purchased when they arrived and had yet to finish. The pair had just slipped from a nearby face-painting stall, giggling after tormenting Dani’s older brother, who’d been conscripted to work there for the night, snapping incriminating pictures of him half-covered in shoddily applied face paint in the pattern of what Blades believed to be tiger stripes, although it being a jack-o-lantern seemed equally plausible.

They’d resumed wandering again, surveying the various stalls and games and booths displaying all sorts of experimental tech, Dani occasionally pulling on the orange sleeve of his hoodie and pointing to a ride that he would begrudgingly board (Much to her amusement, as he screamed his head off on nearly every one,).

“Oh, hey!” she said double taking to look at an attraction they’d just passed, eyes glinting in that mischievous way he’d learned to avoid at all costs, “ _That_ looks fun! Come on!” and, before he’d really had a chance to process her words, she spun him around, ushering him into a low-hanging and dimly-lit structure.

“Alright, I’m gonna have to stop you _right here_ ,” he says wearily, holding his drink in front of him like a shield, “Come on, Dani, _look_ at this place! I swear I’ve seen _at least_ a thousand horror movies in this _exact setting-_ -”

“That’s kinda the point, Blades!” Dani laughed, opening the door to reveal a house of horrors-esque setup, with dim lighting and creeping fog and fake cobwebs and a bored-looking EMT waiting to take their tickets and he stared at Dani in utter disbelief.

“Nope,” he said resolutely after a pause, “Nope, _uh-uh,_ no way am I going in there!” he proclaims, gesturing so enthusiastically he almost spills his drink.

Minutes later, he’s handed his ticket to the EMT, shooting a scowl at a smirking Dani as they were ushered into the entrance of the attraction. He considers the possibility of rogue haunted house animatronics or any other sort of dangerous, malfunctioning technology that would draw him away from the attraction, creeping along at a snail’s pace behind his much more intrepid partner. The walls crept in on themselves gradually, Blades only realizing that they were touching his shoulders when the light flickered off with a loud click. Blades squawked unattractively in response, jumping approximately three feet in the air and once again nearly dropping his drink, rescuing it seconds from toppling and managing only to look like an absolute fool by spilling orange crush on his shoes.

“Not a word, Dani,” he said threateningly, to which she responded with a laugh before continuing on the path.

He had managed to steel himself a bit as they crept along, until he heard a low, pre-recorded growl that made him instinctively grab onto Dani’s shoulder, followed by the sound of loud shuffling coming from behind them.

“Oh my gosh,” he hissed, crouching down smaller, pawing impatiently at Dani’s shoulder as the shuffling got louder, changing into the sound of running footsteps, “Oh my gosh _Dani_ speed up, speed up, _speed up_!” he urged, voice rising steadily in pitch.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that,” she says jokingly, though complying, and the pair jogged forward down the widening hallway. When they reached a junction in the pathway, the lights flashed on and off rapidly, drawing a panicked shout from Blades as he dropped his drink entirely, having forgotten about it. The subsequent crash and spattering of brightly colored soda on his pants legs only made him start again, jumping in the air to avoid the splash. Simultaneously, he heard another growl right behind him, and a hand lightly touching his shoulder, and, panic-stricken, he turned. He hadn’t realized just how fast he’d turned, or that his hand had been curled into a fist, until it solidly connected with someone’s face.

In an instant, his panic deflated, and he gasped, taking a step back and clasping both hands over his mouth. He rushed forwards again, crouching down to where his victim had fallen and placing a tentative hand on their shoulder, babbling apologies loudly over the various haunted house background noise,

“Oh my gosh, oh man, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, _oh my goodness_ , are you _okay_?”

“Agh, Blades, never knew you could throw that hard of a punch,” came a familiar, rumbled response, and Blades started, eyebrows raising in surprise,

“ _Heatwave_?” he squeaked, yanking his hands away from the firefighter as if he’d been burned, and Heatwave grunted in a an affirmative way, holding his injured face with one hand and pushing himself upright with the other. Of course, _of course_ it was Heatwave. Blades’ face burned with embarrassment as the lights continued to flicker. He floundered for a few seconds, at a total loss for words.

“Is it bad?” Blades asked, voice tight with panic in an obvious attempt to stay calm. “I’m sure there’s a first-aid kit out in the front, where we came in, and, I mean, we’re closer to the entrance than the exit, probably, and…” he rambled, voice coming out high-pitched and panicked as he scrambled to his feet in an instant, offering a hand to Heatwave, who was still clasping a hand over his injury. He was sure Heatwave shot him a look, though it was hard to tell because of the incessantly flashing lights, but he took the offered hand anyways and hefted himself up. Blades looked around frantically, realizing that Dani had already taken off down the haunted house trail, not seeming to have noticed the incident.

“I can’t believe you _punched_ me,” Heatwave grumbled, following behind Blades.

“I can’t either,” Blades responded, running one hand through his hair, tugging along his charge with the other. The narrow halls weren’t difficult to navigate, and although they retained their creepy atmosphere, Blades’ first-responder instincts had already kicked in enough to override his fear, and anyways, the light had been turned back on by now.

But, of course, they flicked off again with another loud click, and despite his best efforts not to, Blades jumped in surprise, squeezing Heatwave’s hand in his own.

Heatwave chuckled– a low, endearing sound that made Blades’ ears hot with embarrassment- “Jeez, Blades, first you punch me in the face, then you squeeze my _fingers_ off?” he joked, and Blades gurgled out an embarrassed sound in lieu of responding, focusing instead on making his way back through towards the main exit.

He also noticed that, despite his protest, Heatwave didn’t pull his hand away.

The EMT from earlier was nowhere to be seen when the two of them barged back through the door and into the dimly-lit main room. Blades steered Heatwave over to one of the chairs, kneeling in front of him to take stock of the damage. Heatwave was, for the most part, compliant- muttering faint protests as Blades hovered around him.

Blades winced in sympathy, finally getting a look at the scope of the injury. Heatwave’s cheek was already swollen, the skin there darkening around a weakly bleeding tear, and Blades’ face fell again.

“Oh, _gosh,_ Heatwave, I’m so sorry…” he muttered, standing up to locate a first aid kit, running a hand again through his hair as he noticed the wet, orange stains on Heatwave’s shirt and pants. “Oh! And the… soda…” He finished weakly, scrubbing a hand over his face and pursing his lips.

“It’s alright,” Heatwave grumbled after a pause, eyes following Blades as he retrieved the kit from the back of the room, where the EMT had been sitting. “I'm a firefighter, in case you forgot. I’ve had worse than a bruise and some soda stains,” he offers, shrugging as Blades returned, crouching in front of him once again.

Blades snapped the case open with practised ease, surveying the contents of the kit.

“Okay, this is going to sting a bit,” he warned, fishing out one of the antibacterial wipes before Heatwave scoffed.

“I think I’ll be able to handle it,” Heatwave responded sarcastically. Blades considered letting it slide when Heatwave winced, hissing quietly as Blades cleaned the cut, but chuckled anyways.

“I thought you’ve had worse?” he asked, voice dripping with mock-curiosity, grin spreading across his features as he removed one of the bandages from the kit and opened it.

“Ah, stuff it, Blades,” Heatwave said, voice lacking its usual bite, eyes softening as they met Blades’. Blades froze, the realization of their closeness and the intensity of the situation rendering him unsure of how to proceed. He lifted the bandage as if on autopilot, gingerly placing it across Heatwave’s injury, wondering if Heatwave’s reddening face was just a trick of the dim light or due to his injury or not.

His hand lingered across the other’s face longer than he intended, drifting from its original position at Heatwave’s cheek to his jaw, only to drop unceremoniously and land against his knee.

The suddenness of the action seemed to jar them both back into reality, and Heatwave shot straight up, nearly kneeing Blades in the chest as he scrambled to do the same.

“Ice!” Blades blurted suddenly, reaching a hand out to clap Heatwave on the shoulder before withdrawing it awkwardly, then crossing his arms. “Ice. On your face. So it won’t swell– the bruise. And, uh, vinegar and dishwashing soap. For the soda.” he stammers awkwardly, and Heatwave nods curtly, face continuing to redden.

“Yes. Yeah, okay, that sounds, um. Good. I’m going to, go, and see if I can get some." he responds just as smoothly, gesturing broadly at the door, "Ice. Get some ice.” he finishes, turning on his heel and all but sprinting through the door, leaving Blades alone with a feeling that something had inexplicably changed between them.

“There you are!” he jumped at Dani’s sudden exclamation as she appeared in the doorway. “I’ve been _looking_ for you! I just ran into Heatwave, oh man, you should have seen him, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the guy to flustered, I–” she paused, squinting in suspicion as Blades cracked a smile despite himself, covering his face with a hand and shaking his head. “Did I… Did I miss something? What just happened?” she asks, crossing her arms, and Blades shrugs theatrically.

“Honestly? I don’t even _know_.”


End file.
